University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Chamber. King Robert, Prince James, and the Earl of Orkney.
Earl of Orkney.
The convoy waits his highness.

King Robert.
Rather say
That dangers wait him; harsh, ambitious seas,
And pulseless rocks and unrelenting winds.
The elements are homeless, unallied;
They have no bonds, no sanctities. I've watched
All day the West imbrued with sable storm.
I think the breeze is higher.

Earl of Orkney.
Nay. I'll swear
Its freshness hath declined.

King Robert.
Good! Then we'll wait
Till all the air is motionless and safe.

Earl of Orkney.
Tarry no more, my liege. To slowly part
Doth make the rift of parting an abyss.

King Robert.
O earl, I cannot heave up from my heart
Its anchor with Farewell!

Earl of Orkney.
Yet must you part.

King Robert.
Not yet—not yet! I cannot loose at once;
With soft persistence must the minutes work,
Or I shall die.

Prince James.
Father!

King Robert.
My only child!
Last leaf of my sere bough, when once I loose
Thy bond of dear reliance from my side,
Untraversable space cuts in between,
And I am bare for ever.

Earl of Orkney.
Come, my liege,
You speak as journey never had return,
And Providence were nought.

King Robert.
A keen rebuke!
God has a human family, and I
Have but one mortal son.—Oh, let me look,
Gaze at your face and see the future in 't.
I shall not watch its changes—never seize
The gracious steps whereby your favours mount
To manhood's comely top. Your brother's face
Was far more delicate, the lips more full
And chafing, and the brow less wide and free,
With less of gentle space between the eyes
As frank as yours. It was a face that drew
Much love, except when temper blasted it,
Or scorn envenomed. You are sweetly tuned,
An even nature; on your forehead dreams,
And empire on your mouth. You'll be a man
Beneficent and royal. Check those sobs.
If I am dead, my spirit will rejoice.

Prince James.
I cannot leave you.

King Robert.
Child, nor I loose you.
And yet I must, if in the barren world
My flesh would still have aught to call its own.
Go!—nay, but wait! You'll think of me at night,
The games and studies done—think how I lie
And ponder you. To Memory, as God,
The darkness and the light are both alike.

Prince James.
I'll say “good-night,” and leave the southern winds
To give it to the northern.

King Robert.
I shall pray,
And plunge your name into a well of tears
To send it washed to Heaven.

Prince James.
I will kiss
My hand to you ere sleeping.

King Robert.
And you'll love
The rude land of your birth, nor jest at it?

Prince James.
I've got some heath to carry into France;
They say at Paris it is never seen.

King Robert.
A bushy lock clipt from your country's brow,—
Join it with this from my white forehead ta'en.
Be faithful to the twisted memories.
And, James, there is a head as bright as yours
That's laid beneath the ground. Remember it;
James, James, remember how your brother died.

Prince James.
I will—when I am king.

King Robert.
I know thou wilt.
The close lips are an oath.

Earl of Orkney.
My liege, time runs.

King Robert.
The hour-glass of my very fatherhood
Shows all its moments gone. I cannot say
The dire word that bereaves me; once I signed
A warrant ... Earl, no torture man conceives
Could crush this centre down;—God has a rack
Whereon He breaks some hearts.—I keep you, earl.
My child,
One mighty speechless clasp! Thus, thus, begot,
Thus lost for ever to my arms' embrace. ...
Now falls the stroke—now, now!

Prince James.
I'll run away.

King Robert.
Settle thy chin nor weep. All's over now.
James, send me all the verses that you write;
Your masters' names and how you spend each day;
And who is kind and if the land is fair.
[Exit Prince James, hiding his face.
He's gone! Good earl, go after! Shut the door.
[Exit the Earl of Orkney.
Starved, starved! Starvation! David, David! Son!
It's in my heart the hunger and the want,
And from the lenten depths of my own soul
I pity thee. And—oh!—to think of it!
His vivid youth and golden beauty gone
To the unloved Obscure, the comfortless
Environment of Night. I know they think
That I forget him; for his memory
That like a grave-stone stood against my heart
Hath sunk into its substance, and now seems
To careless eyes half lost; but so much more
'Tis hidden in my love's dark sepulchre.
He gave his lusty years to wantonness
And shameful riot. All my being's hope
I'd give for his deliverance. And yet
I did not train him with strict uprightness;
I gave my precepts with a fearful voice,
O'erlook'd his irreligion, made excuse
For spotted innocence and growing guilt.
He died in soul. My brother married him
With gross dishonour—so he died in heart.
I left his punishment in other hands;
And then he died in body; triple death,
Three-fold starvation! I am judged. Ah me!
And yet I send my sole surviving child
To a licentious court, that I may shun
His arduous protection. God is just.
I who have loosed all duties from my neck,
Shall sometime feel the stone of Sisyphus
Rolled on to me for carriage. Yet—O God!—
The stranger's care alone could save my child.

[Exit.